I Didn't Die
by aidendash
Summary: This story is of Rue. It begins on Reaping Day, and follows her all the way into the arena., and up to that moment until she supposedly dies. Yes, "supposedly". Because Rue never died in the arena. She made it out alive, and she was actually the one to give the start the the fiery rebellion Katniss later lead. I'm not done yet, but I hope you enjoy anyway! :)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Birthday

Every year, on this day, the same fear washes over me, and I drown in it. There's a dam that I spend every year rebuilding to keep the fear at bay, yet, on this day, it collapses. It simply gives away, and there's not a thing I can do about it.

My eyes flutter open, and I receive a taste of the opulent, thin rays of warm light that shine at the crack of dawn, to tell one that a new day has come. The sun shouldn't be shining; it should be clouded by the stormy vapours that blow about in the sky, for today is not a happy day. But the heavens don't observe our tension and alter the skies accordingly. Today is a bright day; the vast blue land above bearing not a single cloud, when there should be a storm.

The bed creaks mournfully as I leave it; almost as if it were upset I would not be staying longer. It would be a pleasure to, but there are many tasks that must be done during the course of the day, commencing from sunrise. As I change into my simple clothing, I pause for a slight moment and wonder if maybe in the other Districts, the day is beginning for some families already, too. Not too many people rise from slumber at this hour of daybreak. It's much too early, and there's still about a full hour and a half before the sun will completely be in the sky. But although some people may have the privilege of resting for another hour, it is not a luxury for those of us who live in this part of District 11. Here is the portion of land that the most apple trees in the Orchard grow in. They are also the very trees that bear the most fruit in the entire District. But because there are only so many people assigned to tend to the apple trees of a certain part of the Orchard, our section is year-round by far the busiest.

Most of the other Districts are rather well off (and certainly richer than ours); there would be no reason for anyone there to wake so soon. But perhaps in District 12? I have heard stories about District 12, though not very detailed ones at that. They are the District that produces all the coal, no? The miners must have to work so many hours a day. But I really do wonder if there's anyone out there…_anyone_, who could understand and relate to me. I am certain that even in District 12, there are families much wealthier than mine, and also families in far worse condition. I wonder how many hours they must work in a day?

But even if on a regular day they work their fingers to the bone, that would not be the case today. I don't believe anyone really works today at all. Most people would rather spend this day with family, or friends. Part of this day, anyway.

I tiptoe down the creaky wooden staircase, careful not to disturb the sleep of my younger siblings. I will come back in twenty minutes to wake them up.

"Rue! Rue!" A little voice cries. I turn, and one of three little brothers crashes into me, and hugs onto me tight. I have to grip the staircase handle tightly so we don't fall down the stairs.

"What's wrong, Briyu? You're supposed to be asleep!"

His little lips tremble. "I…I couldn't! Today is—"

I hug him real tight, and try to stop his words before they come out. "Oh, I know, Briyu. But don't worry, nothing bad is going to happen, I promise. Everything will be fine, same as always!" I utter assuring words, but they are just as much for me as they are for my little brother.

He reluctantly pulls away. "If you say so, Rue." Briyu says tiredly.

"Oh, I do. Now go back and try to catch a little bit more sleep, okay?"

"Okay."

Briyu goes back to his bed, eager at the thought of a wink more of sleep, while I continue my quiet journey down the staircase. My mother is waiting for me in our shabby little kitchen. She is cutting a loaf of bread. It's not fancy or puffy, just the regular, brown, hard-ish loaves of stuff that we can make from what little grain we have.

"Rue, you're downstairs later than usual today."

"I'm sorry, mother."

"That's fine. Come have breakfast."

I sit down at our small table. It isn't big enough to seat our entire family at once, so we have to eat at separate times. I don't pay much attention to my mother cutting the bread, but when she slides the plate to me, I gape in surprise at the extra piece of bread that is given to me. Not only that, but butter—yes! Real, sweet, creamy _butter_—is carefully spread on each slice of bread. I am almost drooling, but I shake my head. No, this can't be butter; we can't afford delicacies like that. And this extra slice of bread…why? For me to have an extra slice someone else would have to give up one of theirs.

I look up at my mother with a puzzled expression. "Mother, what—"

"Happy birthday, Rue." Mother smiles. "I wanted to give you a treat for your birthday. Do you like it?"

Well I…" I blink in astonishment, "I…yeah. T-thanks, mother…but you really shouldn't have. We can't afford butter."

"Oh, just eat up already, won't you? I had a little money saved for something special. Besides, no one in this family has seen butter in months. I thought it'd be nice."

I pick up one slice of the bread and bite delicately into a corner. It's so delicious; I don't think I've never tasted anything so good. It's all I can do to keep myself from eating in slow bites, to refrain from stuffing the entire thing into my mouth. I finish eating my first slice slowly and then pick up my second, the extra slice. A bite, then another, and a third. Soon the last piece is almost gone, too, and all I have is a small bit left. I try to savour it, but it's gone too fast. I stare longingly at my plate—I want more.

_If you were a victor, then you'd have all the bread and butter you want_, a small, nagging voice inside me says.

I frown. No, I refuse to think like that. But no matter how I deny it, it's true. It's sad, but true. If you could win the Hunger Games, you'd be a victor, and you'd be showered with all kind of things. Things that the rest of the people can't have. Like sugar, for example, and butter. And money. Oh, if you were a victor, then the money would never sop flowing! You'd have bucketfuls of it.

_You could be a victor, too. You just have to—_

No. No, no, no! I shake my head fiercely. I can't think like that. I just can't. Reluctantly I get up from my chair, and bring the plate to the counter. Now I have to go wake up my younger siblings.

I try to make my trip up the stairs as long and as quiet as possible, because I want them to get as many extra seconds of sleep as possible. Even when I reach the top, I stand for ten seconds before taking another step. When I move, finally, my movements are still slow. I poke the door, trying to open it slowly. It takes me a full minute to open the door fully. I could have entered long before the minute ended, as the gap was wide enough for me to slip through a long time ago, but I am just stalling time.

There they are, huddled together on two beds. There are five of them—the three youngest on one bed, and the other two, who are just two years older, sleeping soundly on the second bed. I hesitate for a moment, and then walk over to the first bed, the one with the three littlest ones.

"Hey, guys, it's time to get up." I say gently. No one even stirs—they're all deep sleepers. "Wake up."

Still nothing. I stretch out my fingers and nudge Briyu on his shoulder, but he still doesn't respond. So instead, I shake his shoulder. He turns around, knocking into Jaana and Kile. Now all three of them are awake.

"Ouch, Briyu! That hurt!" Complains Jaana, who is otherwise known as Ms. Delicate, for she bruises ever so easily.

"It's time to get up." I say gently.

I wake Matseru and Idon from the other bed and help them get dressed. It's so strange how all of my siblings are so young. Jaana and Kile are both four (they're twins), Briyu is five, and Matseru and Idon are both six (also twins). I used to have an older brother, too, named Isaac, but he passed away five years ago from fever.

After everyone's dressed, I take them downstairs to breakfast, and I go outside to help my father in the orchard. He's been out in the orchard working since half an hour ago. Usually I'd join him sooner, but I was late going downstairs today, and thus late to help him out in the orchard. I find my way to my father.

"Good morning, Rue." He says.

"Good morning, father. Sorry I'm late today."

"That's alright," He wipes the sweat off him brow. "I'm almost done here anyway."

I stand there for a moment, confused. "What do you mean? The day's barely started! How could you be—"

"We're technically not supposed to work today. But I just wanted to water the trees a little. Besides, we have to go in the afternoon, right?"

The thought makes my stomach lurch. _In the afternoon_. This very afternoon could mean the end of me.

I spend the whole morning dreading the afternoon; while washing the dishes, while walking in the orchard. But hours fly by quickly, and soon it's twelve. We have to get to the Town Square at one. We have to leave soon, because it's a long walk from our part of the Orchard to the square. I wash up as fast as I can, and slip into my best clothes, which really aren't that pretty or fancy anyway.

The reaping. I've always feared it, but in different ways. In the years before, I feared it because it could take away my friends and people I cared about and knew. And because those people were taken away it made the people they know miserable. It's an entire chain. But this year—this year is different. I fear it so much more this year because today, I've turned twelve. Today, I am eligible to be entered in the draw for the Hunger Games.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen!" Chirps the familiar, over-enthusiastic voice that we hear live every year. It's Keli Heron, the "reaper", as we speak of her in our district. She comes every year, scantily clad in colours I never thought existed, and things on her body that give her a slightly inhumane look.

I hardly listen during the whole speech they give about how Panem and the Hunger Games came to be. I'm too busy dreading what will happen next.

It comes too soon.

"Well, now, this is the most _exciting_ part! Time to select this year's tributes!" Keli bounces over to the glass ball that holds the name of the boys. She takes her time, rummaging through the ball, a slow smile on her face. Finally, she pulls her arm out, pinching a folded sheet of paper. She unfolds the paper, and I feel the crowd hold their breath. "Thresh Pine."

I feel a twinge of sadness. I know Thresh; he is from our section of the Orchard. How many times he helped me up trees when I was little I do not know. He still comes around often, during harvest, to lend a hand. He's big, and looks kind of mean at first, but he's really kind. I remember once I fell from a tree when I was four, and I would have probably been badly bruised had he not caught me. He was ten at the time.

But before I can feel bad about Thresh, Keli has already crossed the stage and to the other glass ball containing the girls' names. Thresh is already standing on the stage, but I barely have time to register that, because I get a lurching feeling in my stomach as Keli digs her hand into the glass ball, feeling the slips of paper. I feel like I'm about to faint, and I know the blood has completely drained from my face. Her arm stops moving, and I know she's holding a piece of paper tightly between two fingers. I am gasping for air now, and I really do feel like throwing up, but I am still hoping, desperately hoping that the piece of paper she's holding doesn't say my name. But I don't want it to say anyone else's name, either—no one's family should have to suffer. But it has to say someone's name. I'm trying to decide who's name I'd rather have chosen when I hear—

"Rue Thornfield."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Capitol

I am so stunned I can't move. My mouth hangs a little open, probably in shock. My eyes are wide, and I feel like a thick layer of ice has settled upon me, locking me in the cold prison. My vision starts to blur, and I panic, because it feels like I'm going blind. Eventually, someone pushes me, and I start to make my way to the stage in tiny steps, my vision still fading. When I mount the stage, it's so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Somehow I make out my mother in the sea of fizzy images, and she's crying silently. My father stands beside her, hugging her. The crowd is blocking Briyu and the others, but I feel like I can hear their sobs. They're not quite old enough to understand the reaping, but they know bad things happen to the people selected each year. They also picked up on the fact that most of the people that are picked are never seen again.

"Any volunteers?" Keli asks, still as cheerful as ever. It amazes me how this woman can sound so naturally happy while standing before a crowd filled with dead silence. All you can hear is the wind, rustling through the trees.

Then they take us into custody, and escort us to some opulent room, where the seats are lined with a soft material I've never touched before, and colours so beautiful I want to stare at them forever. This is the part where our families and friends are supposed to come and say goodbye. The door creaks, and in steps my family. Kile and Jaana come crying hysterically, crushing me in surprisingly strong hugs. My mother also sweeps me into a hug, and my father, too. There's nothing much to say. We all just silently shed tears.

And then they're gone. They are my only visitors, and I sit there for about five minutes before someone comes to take me to the train. I wipe my tears on my sleeve and hope my eyes aren't too red. At the station I witness the longest train I have ever seen in my entire life. There are the bright flashes of cameras taking my pictures, but I can't seem to notice them. The train takes my breath away. Are we really going to ride that to the Capitol?

"Come, Rue!" Keli pulls me into the train.

Soon, it starts to move. The speed is breathtaking, but I let nothing show on my face. When Keli shows me to my chamber, which is bigger than our entire house, I don't say anything, and go quietly to sit on the bed. I notice so many buttons around the room, all with different purposes, and I know that the closet, the drawers, and the shelves must contain all sorts of things, but I don't want to move. So I end up sitting here, for two whole hours, staring at a blank point on the wall, until Keli comes and calls me to dinner.

I follow her slowly, as if in a trance. I don't snap out of it until we reach the dining room. The aroma and the sight! I've never seen so much food in my life, ever! I stare for a little bit, wide eyed and probably looking silly. Sitting down at the table, I stare at the food uncertainly, still unable to believe that this is the kind of meal that tributes get before the arena. Thresh, who is sitting in front of me, must be surprised too, but if he is, he's doing a good job of hiding it.

Keli tells us to start eating already, and I finish my plate in record time. This is even better than butter on bread, which itself is already a barely-affordable luxury for my family. How beautiful the Capitol must be, then! I frown, though. They are so selfish. There are people in the Districts who are starving and dying from it, but they get more than enough to eat every day? Shouldn't everyone be equal? If so, then why is butter such a specialty for my family…when in the Capitol it's less than nothing?

I don't spend much time frustrating over this, because then, another plate of food is slid onto the table in front of me. Confused, I look up. Two meals within one? This one looks even richer and tastier than the last. Just how much do they eat in the Capitol? That must be why their people look so plump and healthy, while most people in District 11 and 12 are skin and bones. Most, but not all. Take Thresh, for example. He's so muscular; the exact opposite of what you would expect a regular person in District 11 to look like. His sister's tall and strong, too. Perhaps it runs in his family.

I eat the second plate of food hesitantly, watching everyone else. Thresh must be confused, too, but he doesn't let it show. Keli and Lorey (our mentor), don't seem surprised at all, however, so I just go back to concentrating on eating. After I finish, I feel so full—I've never eaten this much before. But as I'm about to ask to be excused from the table, a _third _plate arrives in front of me.

"What the—" I start.

"The meal comes in courses." Lorey responds, sounding bored. "In case you haven't realized."

"Courses?"

"Yeah."

"Why would you need to eat in courses?" I ask. "Isn't one _course_ enough?"

"Don't question it, kid. It's just the way things are."

I scowl, unsatisfied with the answer. A second so-called course was surely enough to make anyone full. Just how many courses do they have in one meal? I leave the table without excusing myself. Normally, I would not be so ill-tempered, but for some reason this situation makes me angry. So all that food we plant and harvest back in District 11, is this where it all goes to? We spend so much time tending to the crops, but why do we do it, anyway? If it's never us who gets to taste it in the end, but the greedy citizens of the Capitol? I storm back to my room, and slam the door shut as hard as I could with the bit of strength I have. The banging sound satisfies me, but not quite enough. I turn off all the lights and crawl into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin, even though I'm just sitting. I stare out the window at the stars, which, although we're going at such a high speed, don't seem to move at all. I love stars. I pull out my necklace from under my shirt—the one I've had since I was a baby. It's a chain made of grass, with a carved wooden star bead hanging from it.

I miss my family.

To drown out my sadness, I try to think of little ditties and songs we sing back at home. I sing them in my head, but eventually, without realizing it, I begin to sing out loud.

_An apple from the tree, the tree, the tree_

_ So plump and red, don't you see, don't you see?_

_ Climb the highest on the tree, the tree, the tree_

_ The whole world is waiting, don't you see, don't you see?_

That is a song that all the children of District 11 know. I sang it countless times when I was a little, and the words and the tune have been seared into my brain. There's also a second part to the song, but no one dares sing it out loud. It's not so sweet as the first part.

_Can you see the Capitol, the capital of Panem?_

_ They chain us to suffering, to death we are condemned_

_ The little bit of freedom, the snips of glory we own_

_ They take it from us; from our blood and our bones_

No one dares utter a word from the second verse. If the Peacekeepers heard it, we'd be dead. Dead, or worse. If anyone heard that second verse, the person who sang it would wish to be dead, lest they prefer painful punishment.

I fall asleep. I am still sitting, still clutching the wooden star around my neck, the covers still pulled up to my chin. The wooden star. It's my only connection to home.

"Rue! Wake up!" There's a knock on my door. It's Keli, coming to remind me of a busy day ahead.

I don't respond, but I slide off the bed and walk to the bathroom. I would love to take a bath, but I don't want to figure out all those buttons on the panel near the bath tub. So instead, I just wash my face, brush my teeth, and leave.

Lorey is not at breakfast when I get there. Perhaps she slept in? Most likely, as she is known for her love of sleep. As a victor, she doesn't need to work like the rest of us, which means that she can get up at whatever time she wants, ever day, whether that time be morning, noon, or afternoon.

Turning to look at the food, I wince. Breakfast better not be served in courses, too. As I sit down, I get a big plate of hash browns, fried ham, bacon, toast, and eggs. I eat all of it, even though I still feel full from last night's meal. I probably should try to gain a few pounds before the Games start, even though I won't have too much trouble if I'm out of food. Going hungry is something I'm used to.

An orange liquid is poured into the tall glass in front of me. I frown. Is it safe? I don't trust that bright orange. I sniff it cautiously, and it doesn't smell bad. More like sweet. A sour-sweet, actually. I take a sip of it, surprised at the taste. What is this juice made of? I drain my cup, and then ask for more. I don't ask or any more food, but I've drank five glasses of that orange-coloured juice by the time breakfast is over.

"You really seem to like orange juice." Keli comments, eyeing me.

"The juice is named after its colour?" I ask, confused.

"No. It's named after the fruit, orange. Orange juice."

"There's a fruit called orange?" I giggle.

"Yes." Keli answers patiently, smiling. She walks over to me, and picks up a round fruit whose skin is the same shade of the juice from the tub filled with ice at the center of the table. "This is an orange."

"So this fruit is named after the colour, then?"

"Maybe, or the other way around."

"How do they get the juice from it?"

"Well…" Keli says, looking puzzled. "I'm not sure, actually. They extract the juice from the fruit. Perhaps they squeeze it."

"Oh."

The rest of the morning is spent (for me) studying oranges, and occasionally asking for another glass of orange juice. I had to use the bathroom three times in two hours, but the juice is so delicious, I want to keep drinking it. At noon, though, it is evident that we are nearing the Capitol. At about 1:00, we pass through a dark tunnel. It's a very tunnel, as it goes through a mountain. I am amused by the thought of all that dirt above us. Everything on the train is silent, so silent. My heart pounds, because I know that the moment we exit this tunnel, we will be in the Capitol. My veins throb at the excitement. I don't know what the Capitol will look like.

And then, there it is. My eyes widen, and my breath is taken away. The buildings are so tall, thirty times taller than the tallest tree in the Orchard. They look so unwelcoming, all steel and glass. But if I look below, I see so many colours! The pinks and blues are yellow are almost painful to look at; they are so bright. Everything looks so shiny and new, so polished and futuristic. And oh, the people! The people are hilarious. What ridiculous clothes they wear, and what hideous hairdos and makeup! Oh, and those etchings on their skin are a laugh, too. They look even more ridiculous than Keli, and she is already ludicrous. I find myself laughing, laughing so hard at everything. I am still crying out with laughter, but inside, my heart is given a painful twist. These are the people who will watch me die. These people will _enjoy_ watching me die. These people are devils. They take everything we work for from us, and they will watch children fight each other to a bloody, gory end.

And I just stand there, still laughing, tears of despair rushing down my face.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3: THE OPENING CEREMONY

The minute the train pulls to a stop we are whisked out immediately—there's not a single minute to lose. This train station is used specially for the Hunger Games, which means that the Prep centre, which is the place there they basically "fix up" some obvious issues on your body, including (if you're a girl), almost all your body hair, is very close by.

After we are guided off the train, they bring us immediately to the Prep centre, where we meet our prep team, which consists of three people that address the "obvious issues" on your body, before you meet your actual stylist. I get no glimpse of any other tribute, except Thresh, as he is guided to a different area.

When I see my prep team, I do nothing but raise an eyebrow. Lorey had said that they were most likely ridiculously dressed, and probably have tattooed or dyed skin, grotesque appearances, etc. But no, my prep team seems almost…normal. Aside from the fact that they have a little touch of makeup and colour here and there, there's nothing grotesque about them. They don't even dress like the normal Capitol citizens. Nothing revealing, nothing colourful or flashy. They all wear the same thing—simple grey jeans that I suppose are meant to be a little tight, a white shirt, and a jacket that's either black, dark blue, or dark green. Two women and a man they are, and they all wear serious expressions. They are also about a foot and a half taller than me, each of them. Turns out, though, that's they're the nicest people ever. They're triplets, first of all, which explains why they look alike. The woman in the black jacket introduces herself as Ver, the woman in the blue jacket tells me to call her Trix, and the man, the youngest of the three, tells me his name is Bliue.

They don't waste any time; they get straight to work, stripping my arms and legs of any bit of hair. It's painful, but I don't scream out loud. It was uncomfortable being naked in front of them, so they let me put on a robe, and only reveal whatever limb or part of my body that they needed to "fix". My nails have never been so clean, and it feels so weird and vulnerable, being hairless. It seems like forever before they're done, but it feels funny, because no one's ever paid so much attention to my body before. I know it's weird to think about it that way, but still. No one's ever given me so much attention.

"Alright, you're done," Ver announces. "I'll go get Terris."

So my stylist's name is Terris. Okay. Everyone in the Capitol seems to have such interesting names, but then again, who's to judge what a weird name is? Rue could be a weird name to them. I hear Terris from here, and the click of high heels. I only know what they sound like, because Trix wears them. Terris's voice is high-pitched, and has a heavy Capitol accent, though not quite as heavy as Keli's. Trix, Ver, and Bliue almost have no accent.

"Hello-o-o, Rue!" Terris chirps as soon as she catches the sight of me. Then she stops for a moment, looking uncertain. "It _is_ Rue, no?"

"Yes, it's Rue." I reply politely. I can't help but notice how she is such a contrast from Ver, Trix, and Bliue and their quiet demeanor. She is so bubbly and bright (literally), and is so excitable. Although she doesn't have any sort of strange piercings (except for little gems on her earlobes), and her skin isn't dyed or tattooed, her dress has interesting patterns on it, and personally, I think it's just a _little_ too short. Her high heels are so high, and they match her dress. So does her necklace, and her bracelet. But although she looks too colourful compared to my prep team, she is still by far _less_ colourful than an average Capitol citizen.

"Ahh, alright, then, shall we begin?"

I nod uncertainly, and Terris shoos out Ver and her two siblings. Then she makes me take off my robe momentarily, and she surveys every inch of my body. I stand there, turning red. But at least Terris is a woman, not a man. Not that it makes the situation better by a lot. After she tells me can put the robe back on, she beckons me over to two couches facing each other, with a low table in between, and invites me to sit on one couch, while she folds herself neatly into the other one.

For a moment, she stares at my face. "So…I suppose we will need a _little_ bit of changing with the costumes, yes?"

I stare back, uncertain what she meant.

She seems to understand that I have no clue about a thing she just said. "Well, you see, I had thought we'd get someone older. It is rare we get a twelve year old." She purses her lips. "I had expected someone with…"A pause, "a little more…_curve_."

I blush a little bit. It's not the first time someone commented how absolutely flat chested I am. But I don't really suppose it's my fault. We barely get enough nutrients to grow healthily and have a proper weight; forget about curves. Besides, it's not like I want curves. I've got no use for them.

Terris continues on, "But no matter, we will figure something out, yes?"

I have no choice but to nod.

She pulls out what looks like a large envelope, and pulls out a stack of paper. Then she spreads the papers out on the table. Each paper has a picture of a face-less woman wearing a beautiful outfit, complete with a hairdo and additional decorations. And in each of the pictures, the woman drawn has curves.

"What are these?" I ask.

"Designs."

"What are those?"

"Well…they are like ideas. See the lady wearing the clothes in the picture? That is a design. It is my idea for your opening ceremony costume."

"Oh."

"So? Do you like them?"

I look at each one. I like them all. They are not so fancy, but are just a tad bit simple, which I like. They are not so jewel-ridden, or so sparkly as I might have guessed it would have been. Since the opening ceremony is where the tributes make their first official appearances to the public, the stylists usually want the tributes to make a big, sparkling, splashy appearance. But Terris has good taste, one that doesn't involve five pounds of sequins being sewn onto the clothing. I look Terris up and down, noticing how gracefully she crosses her long, hairless legs, and her posture.

"What is it?" She asks, shifting uncomfortably.

"Well, I notice you don't dress like a lot of the other people in the Capitol. You know, not so flashy, so…grotesque."

Terris smiles. "Ahh, I see. Well, I don't care for that sort of fashion. I think everything should be a little bit simple, no? Why would you dye and tattoo yourself like that? Well, perhaps it is only my opinion, but I agree with you—it _is_ grotesque."

I realize I am beginning to like Terris. She is kind of different from the rest of the Capitol, as are Ver, Trix, and Bliue. I like that. I am so glad I did not end up with a stylist that wants to stuff me into a seventy-pound costume. I myself barely weigh seventy pounds. A costume like that would crush me. I skim each of Terris's designs again. Since the costume that the tribute wears is supposed to represent their District, all her designs represent agriculture in one way or another. One design has a headband made of grape vines, and has leaves and grapes hanging out of it in an attractive way.

"I see you like design number 63." Terris comments. Not up until then do I realize that the papers have a small number written at the top right corner. "That one is my favourite."

"It's nice."

"You see, a long, _long_ time ago, there was a country called Greece, and they believed in _gods_. There was a goddess they believed in, and by them she was called Demeter. She was the goddess of agriculture and harvest. I thought it would make sense for you to look like you resemble her, since you are from District 11."

I look at the design with a more critical eye. Besides the headband, the rest of the outfit represents food also, in one way or another. The dress, which is full length, plain white with a golden belt right below the breasts, doesn't have anything to with food in particular, but the golden belt is carved with images of wheat harvests. The dress is sleeveless, but the wearer has a green, see-through sash that is partially woven with grass, flowers, and small leaves. The wearer also holds a women basket containing hay, apples, and other vegetable and fruits. Around the upper arm is a piece of vine, looking like an arm band. I fall in love with the design immediately.

"Can I wear this one?" I ask reluctantly. I have no idea what exactly Terris has planned out, so I'm not sure what's I'm really supposed to do.

She looks surprised for a moment. "Well, if you really want to. Of course."

Two hours later I'm dressed in the most splendid dress I have ever seen in my life. It's made of white, flowing silk, and the belt feels like real gold. Golden brooches connect the cloth at the shoulders, and a portion of excess cloth falls down my back in a stream, trailing on the ground. The headband turns out to be circular, and rests on my head like a crown, green leaves and fat, purple grapes drooping. The shoes are just simple leather sandals, but they are covered by the dress and aren't seen anyway. Instead of the vine armband, it is a gold one. Gold necklaces, pendants, and coloured gems and beads fall from my neck, and surrounding my eyes is a faint gold glitter. They tell me I look older—perhaps sixteen, not twelve. The makeup consists of lots and lots of black stuff they line my eyes with, some sort of thing that makes your eyelashes thicker, pink dust for my cheeks, and a shiny pink gloss for my lips.

When I finally get a chance to look in a mirror, it is not me I am looking back at, but simply a young goddess from ancient times. The Capitol may be ludicrous, but they really know how to change up a person's appearance. I can see no sign of my former self, not even im my eyes, which they have had me put contact lenses over. The lenses make my iris a rich, sharp shade of green, and when it catches the slightest bit of light, it glows a silvery gold. Goddess eyes.

Before we get in the chariot that's supposed to take parade us around, I catch a glimpse of the girl from District 12. Fifteen, sixteen, maybe? She's so pretty, especially in her shiny black outfit. But obviously they have some way to spice the costume up—right now it's just a black bodysuit. She doesn't see me, instead wears a sullen expression, like she's dreading something that's about to happen. The opening ceremony, maybe? Doesn't look like it, though.

The horses that pull the District 11 chariot are two chocolate brown stallions, both with a white star on their forehead, and manes of an even darker shade of brown. One of them lets me pet them on the neck.

Thresh looks interesting, too. I guess they still went with the ancient god/goddess theme, and when I ask him which one he was supposed to resemble, he glances at me and says, "Dionysus."

The trumpets start blaring, and I quickly step into the chariot. One by one the chariots pull away, and I hear the roar of the spectators as they watch the glistening tributes file out pair by pair. The District 1 chariot is far away, but I can still see the two tributes on it. They have gems all over their costumes, and I'm surprised they don't fall from the weight of it. Their skin glows silver, and where their clothes aren't ridden with gems, it's sequins. The District 2 people I can't make out so much, because their outfits are not so glittery. But there's a lot of blue on it, I can tell. District 3 goes by, then 4 (a mermaid theme—a mermaid and a merman sit on a fake rock on a platform pulled by two pearly white mares). District 5, followed by 6, and 7 (two tributes beautifully decorated like woodland creatures—nymphs. The girl is so sylph-like, and has a really petite body, perfect for her role). Then go 8 and 9, and 10 with their feathery and colourful getups. Next is us. I take a deep breath, close my eyes for a moment, and then we are surrounded by people. There are people on the left, people on the right, all looking silly in their Capitol clothes. Confetti is thrown at us, and I turn to look at some of them. They cheer when my eyes catch light and glow. We are showered with flower petals, pink, red, yellow, all kinds. The noise is so loud, it drowns out my thoughts. I notice there are screens above that show us as well. I look so serious, delicate, and graceful. I am pleased to say that I remind myself of the figure in Terris's picture.

People are screaming my name, and when I turn to the direction where they are, they cheer at my glowing eyes. They are all so feeble and gullible.

When finally the chariot pulls to a stop, when we are away from the crowds, I finally breathe. I realize I'd been holding my breath, and I gasp for air. Thresh is looking fine, not even amused by all that's happened. He's become so stern, when he used to be so lively. I turn myself and catch a glance at the District 12 girl again, and I watch as she and the boy from her District get their fiery cloaks put out. So that was it—their way to spice up their costume. A flaming cloak! Genius! They must have looked so brilliant out there, like coals burning in the dark. Too bad I didn't get to see it. Doesn't matter though, I think they'll replay it tonight anyway.

Only, I didn't get to see it. Because all of a sudden I'm so tired, and the minute we get upstairs to our living apartments, before I even get a chance to look around, I've dropped—makeup, costume and all—onto the bed in my room, and fallen into deep sleep.


End file.
